An Organization XIII Oneshot
by zephyrXmeridian
Summary: Post KHII, our favorite organization has replaced its dead members with new, stronger ones but is slowly unraveling and falling apart. Just a slightly angsty oneshot of Nobodies when they can suddenly feel hearts again.


Organization XIII Oneshot

_This is just a post KHII oneshot I started writing one day. Kudos and a virtual cookie to anyone that guesses the three names in this! – _big grin –

A gentle breeze lifted Oxyrt's long, slightly unkempt silver hair away from his face as he leaned over a high balcony near Memory's Skyscraper. He welcomed the disturbance, though the wind made it even colder than it already was. Then he realized...the wind never blew in the in-between world known as the World that Never Was! He looked up and noticed the small, lithe young woman who was the Organization's XIII leaning casually on the railing, her own hair flickering slightly in the wind. This time it was a faded, dusky red color; she could never keep the same hair color for more than a month.

Nalexga. The final member of Organization XIII, she had always remained somewhat of a mystery to even those she managed to get somewhat close to. She was never part of the fickle, shifting alliances that existed amongst the others; she always worked alone whenever she could. Her personality was dark and withdrawn, and carrying on a lengthy conversation with her was close to impossible. And yet...he found her attractive, in a way. Perhaps the connection was felt because they were both outsiders, alone and trusting no one.

She wasn't wearing her coat and hood; just the sleeveless, skintight leather that went under it. For the first time since her induction into the Organization, he noticed that her left arm had a large burn scar on it, as well as a scar possibly from a knife wound that ran from her elbow to just below her wrist. Her right arm was similarly marked, though not quite as badly.

His eyes met hers, and he winced as he saw the jagged scar that had been slashed across her left eye. The scar that _he_ had caused. Had she truly forgiven him, as she had said to him rather haltingly when they had first been partnered together by Xemnas...or was she still out to kill him? He shook the feeling off; whatever it was, it couldn't have been regret. He wasn't capable of feeling regret.

Nalexga snapped her fingers, and the wind ceased to blow. "I need to talk to you about something. In private. Alone."

Oxyrt nodded, though the prickling feeling in his spine started again. Something didn't feel right about this, and the twisting in his stomach reflected that. It was a familiar feeling, something he had felt once long before, but he wasn't sure if he remembered the reasons for it. There was so much he didn't understand, so many things he felt that couldn't be explained!

"Let's go to the cemetery; we won't be disturbed there." She summoned a corridor of dark energy and nodded to it. "Come on. And leave your coat behind; Raxalman's followers will not attack you as long as you don't have it on." She watched him slip out of the coat and drape it unceremoniously on the balcony ledge; her grey eyes remained on him as he approached her. She held out her hand, but no warmth showed in her face. Why would it? he reminded himself as he reached out and took it.

Immediately, a vortex spun around the two of them, and for a brief moment, the two of them were pressed against each other. Their eyes met, and suddenly, a warmth blossomed down his body. Then, as quickly as it had come, it disappeared, and they were standing in a leaf-strewn graveyard. Thirteen markers. He didn't have to look to know his own name was on the second, and that hers was engraved on the thirteenth.

"Remember how we've all been told Xemnas is the last surviving member of the Old Order?" Her voice was sharp as she paced back and forth among the headstones. "He's not Xemnas. Xemnas died two years ago, killed by the Keyblade Master. This man is an impostor, but as for now, we have no way of knowing who."

"Why are you telling me this?" It was all he could think of to say.

"Because we – you and me – have a heart. We share one. You ever felt things you think are emotion but aren't really sure because you really don't know what emotions are? Congratulations. You've found your heart's other half, and now you can feel again."

Her voice was still cold, almost bitter. Oxyrt still didn't understand; if she was telling him they could feel, that they weren't really Nobodies...or were they? Were half-hearts grouped in with the rest who had none?

"You're angry. Why?" The simple question caused quite a dramatic reaction as a gale suddenly swept through the graveyard, clearing the leaves from the ground and repositioning them in various sized clumps.

"Wouldn't you be if you had lived through hell just to die and experience another? I don't know how long you've been a Nobody, Oxyrt, but I know you're too innocent to have been one for long."

"Nalexga, what are you getting at?"

"Look at me, Oxyrt. The Organization is falling apart. Lies, betrayal, deceit...everyday life, and it's tearing us all apart. This is the only home we have, and it's crumbling away. I was just warning you, letting you know ahead of time. We could die again soon; who knows what new sort of hell awaits us then."

"But why me?"

She whirled around in mid-pace and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. "I already told you. We share a heart; somehow, we're connected. Touching, isn't it?"

"Touching..." he repeated, but never really got to finish before he felt her lips on his, her arms laced tightly around his neck, her body pressed up to his in a way that sent a warm shiver shooting through him like a spark on a dynamite wick. His mind at that moment was overwhelmed by a thousand thoughts, his heart by a thousand emotions he had either never felt before, or had but not nearly as vividly. Her hair smelled faintly of incense smoke and almost glowed in the light of the suddenly unclouded moon, and right then, he wanted to be with her; oh, how he wanted her!

She pulled away almost as quickly as she had begun. "So that's what it's like," she said softly, almost to herself. "I remember now."

He barely heard her, for he was too busy remembering his own past. So that was what it was like to feel.


End file.
